Monday, July 2, 2007

slug people vs Real People (TM)

I’m in a funk I think. I certainly am as I type this, but I have a tendency to let my in-the-moment moodiness color everything, as when I spent 10 or 15 years being treated for chronic mild to moderate depression/ anxiety until about two years ago I started charting and realized my symptoms are largely cyclical. But right now it feels very real, tangible and physical. Nothing situational prompted ill feelings, I just sank lower and lower all day and now I feel pretty down.

I’ve been equal parts frustrated and motivated by my state of being lately. The motivation’s entirely in my head, of course, as I’ve made zero changes in the things about which I’m perpetually whining. Zero changes in the past eleventy billion years.

I’m so sick of having epiphanes and blogging them all insightful & excited & by the time I’ve clicked ‘Publish,’ I’ve already begun sinking back into the quagmire of my life as a slug. However, the epiphanes of late are worth the energy it takes to type them out, I guess.

Epiphane #23,789,345: My procrastination is insane when compared vis a vis my anxiety. If I’m so bloody sure someone I love is going to die an imminent gruesome death in a fiery accident of epic Greek Tragedy proportions, why the hell am I not carpeing the diems of my life?

Epiphane #23,789,346: There are slug people who have, by sheer force of will and actual application of the crap they knew was true but never applied, become Real People ™.

Epiphane #23,789,347: My fear of making art, or facing my real self, or whatever it is, is itself the subject of the art I need to create, beginning with a book I started to make about art and fear and never finished. (OK, it’s just funny, that perfect illustration of me.)

Epiphane #23,789,348: I’m totally blaming my environment for my own unwillingness to do the stuff I want to do. Like, whining in my head about how different Bu and I are and how I wish we were some cool artsy couple who goes to all the gallery openings and has long talks about art. But I’m not staying up to date with the artsy goings-on and I certainly can go do those things with my friends or even- gasp- myself when the Buddha’s in hermit mode. Same rationalizing goes for eating my crap food, letting the baby watch TV, etc.

Of course, the same epiphane was #1 - #23,789,344: stop worrying about not doing the junk I’m not doing and Just. Fucking. DO IT. Already. For the love of all Gods, just move your fat, lazy ass and Shut. The. Living. Hell. Up!

So I’ve resolved that this is my last whiny post labeled ‘evolution’ about all the changes I wanna make, all the things I wannabe but only, apparently, if some imaginary Real Person ™ fairy can just sprinkle magic dust on my life and make all the changes for me. In lieu of The Whine I’m going to start blogging my baby steps and make some progress. any progress at all, toward a Roxy who does things in harmony with her true being. Because, oh yeah, that was Epiphane #23,789,348 ½: that I am not manifesting my true self, my soul, in my day to day life. And, um duh: that’s all there is.
(Image stolen, but only a little, from
Edit: Also, in the midst of formatting this post, Bu IM's me thusly:
Bu says:
Roxy says:
yep? (thinking... oh shit, I bet he needs me to go to the store or there's a problem with the website or...)
Bu says:
I love you
Roxy says:
you made me smile all across my whole face! i love you, too. it was like a Bu got me flowers smile! a Johnny Depp shirtless smile! SQUEE!!!
Bu says:
there you go, ruining the moment by mentioning my arch nemisisises (referencing Buffy Season 6)
Roxy says:
So, wow:)

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